Book 6: Chapter 49: Sense

Book 6: Chapter 49: Sense

Gabriel was beautiful.

His skin shimmered golden over perfectly sculpted features that would have been entirely at home on a statue of a Greek god, while his hair – which seemed like it was composed of strands of pure, white light – danced in a nonexistent wind. But his eyes, bearing incomprehensible symbols instead of irises, drew more attention than any of his other traits.

If he’d claimed to be a god, Sadie would have believed him.

“How are you here?” she asked breathlessly.

“I am not,” he said, his voice ringing with the tone of resonant bells. “This form is but an illusion. It is the tiniest sliver of my spirit given a shape of light and sound.”

“I...I see,” she said.

“You do not, but I do not expect you to. Your perception is too limited to fully understand the scope of my words,” he said. There was no arrogance in the statement. Only fact. “However, I did not attend you in order to speak of things you have no hope of comprehending. Instead, I have come to offer advice. Perhaps incentive, as well.”

“I’m listening,” Sadie stated, struggling to gather her wits. The man before her had a human shape, and though he wore simple robes of white, she knew that he was a prominent fighter. She could feel that much in her very spirit. His mere presence was overwhelming, and to every one of her senses, both mundane and magical.

“Do you trust me?”

“No.”

His eyes widened, but the expression was gone well before Sadie could decipher whether it came from surprise or anger. “Why not?” he asked, his voice betraying none of his feelings. In fact, it sounded so innocent that Sadie almost forgot her own grievances. It only took another moment before they all came rushing back to her.

But one stood out above all others.

“Your core changed my class,” she said.

“Of course. All elder cores will alter your abilities.”

“I didn’t know what I was getting into,” she stated. “Some of these abilities...they’re too much. Every day, I have to live with seeing the worst of everyone I meet. And there isn’t a human being out there who’s completely without sin. It’s too much. It’s overwhelming. I feel entirely isolated, like I don’t belong. Like I never will.”

“That is by design.”

“W-what?”

“Do you know why I chose you?” Gabriel asked.

Up until that moment, Sadie had thought she knew the answer to that question. She was fighting against a force of undead that seemed to consort with demons, the natural enemies of angels. But the angel’s demeanor suggested that there was more to the decision than she had previously suspected.

“I don’t,” she admitted.

“Good. Acknowledging your ignorance is a necessary step toward enlightenment,” he said with a tight smile that never touched his runic eyes. “I chose you for a variety of reasons. I looked into your heart, and I saw a kindred spirit who valued justice and order. Likely, you already know the second reason. The enemy of my enemy is a potential ally. You fought the undead and the demonic trash with whom they cooperate. Yet, we do not grant elder cores to all who fight our enemies. Even if that was our wish, we simply do not possess power on that scale.”

“You seem strong enough to do whatever you want,” Sadie said. It wasn’t a flippant comment, either. Even the illusory version of the angel – which was apparently barely a fraction of his real self – put pressure on her spirit in a way nothing else ever had. By comparison, even the lava kraken or the umbrafyix were nothing. And both of those creatures could have squashed her like an insect.

“Would that were the case,” he acknowledged, a wistful note to his voice. “I am not here to discuss the power necessary to grant an elder core. Suffice it to say that it is a very rare occurrence, reserved only for those who meet strenuous requirements. One of those necessary factors is your class.”

Sadie didn’t respond, but she was more than a little skeptical. The Crusader class wasn’t common, but she’d done a little research and found that it was barely considered rare. Surely, there were plenty of people out there who’d taken the class.

“While the class itself is not considered rare, most who are offered the chance to become a Crusader end up taking less focused classes,” Gabriel stated. “So, there are not many who take it. Most are like you – people who are protecting their worlds from incursions of evil origin.”



The options were powerful. Sadie could see that much, if only by looking at the additional attributes and the modifiers on the efficacy of her cultivation. However, as she read the descriptions, she saw a pattern. Sanctuary was intended to push her more toward being a true defender, while Vengeance was meant to lean into the offensive side of her powers. The odd one out was Inquisition, which seemed to focus on the other aspects of her class.

But there was one factor that would determine whether or not she would even consider Inquisition as a potential path.

“Do you know what options I have been offered?” she asked.

“I do.”

“Does Inquisition include Sense of Sin and Confession?”

He hesitated for only a moment before answering, “Yes. It also improves your healing spells as well as Path of the Faithful.”

“So, that one is out,” she said. “You said you’re here to advise me, and judging by your expression, you don’t like that I’ve already ruled out Inquisition. Why should I consider it when it’s only made my life that much more difficult?”

“It is the primary reason we watch Crusaders. That specialization is incredibly rare, especially at the potency you have been offered,” Gabriel explained.

“Okay? It’s still not a path I want to follow,” she said. “I’ve spent the past few months struggling to connect with –”

“That is the point,” Gabriel stated. “Do you recall when I said you needed to go through a crucible? This is that test. Enduring the Inquisition specialization is recognized by the system as a potent Feat of Strength.”

“Okay? So, I might get a better class evolution,” she said. “What does that matter if I can’t stand to be near other people?”

“A true judge is meant to stand apart. Impartial. Implacable. Unfettered by personal relationships. Only truth matters. This is training for the life you could lead, for the warrior for justice you could become. That is who you are. If you take the Inquisition specialization, you will not only achieve a more powerful class evolution, but you will also begin to work toward taking the next step in the cultivation of your core.”

“And?” she asked. “I can do that already. I’ve begun to research –”

“This will ease your path,” he said. “You crave power, but not for yourself. You need the strength to save your people, do you not? That is a noble goal. I am here to tell you that the Inquisition Specialization will unequivocally grant more power than the other two combined. You merely must endure a little discomfort if you wish to seize the strength to do what must be done.”

“I...I can’t,” she said. What she felt in the presence of other people wasn’t just discomfort. It was psychological torture, plain and simple.

“You must.”

“I...I...”

“My time here is limited,” Gabriel stated. “I have said what I came here to say. I trust that you will do the right thing.”

Then, without further conversation, he disappeared, leaving Sadie to wonder what she was supposed to do. On the one hand, Gabriel was right. She needed as much power as she could gather, and Inquisition offered to meet that need. However, it also felt like she was on the verge of stepping off a cliff and hoping that she would suddenly sprout wings.

The other two options were obviously safer, especially in terms of her sanity. But she kept going back to one simple fact: no one ever did anything worthwhile by taking the easier route. Making a difference – especially on the scale of saving an entire city – took sacrifice.

But in the end, it came down to one factor. Or rather, a memory. In her mind, she saw Lisa, her sister, being obliterated because Sadie wasn’t strong enough to save her. If she’d had more power at the time, she could have stepped in. She could have shielded her. And now, if she could simply put her own fate – and mental well-being – aside, she could save everyone else. It was the same choice, just on a different scale.

Even so, Sadie hesitated. She stared at the notification in her mind’s eye, wishing that, somehow, the facts would change. They did not. If her companions had been privy to her thoughts, they might have advised her to take one of the other specializations.

But she was alone.

And she made the only choice that made sense. She picked Inquisition.